


Like Ink and Cigars

by TinyPlanetExplorer



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, M/M, Race gets hurt, newsies in love, some violence, sprace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 12:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16854292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyPlanetExplorer/pseuds/TinyPlanetExplorer
Summary: Jack finds out about Race and Spot's relationship and confronts Spot. Spot, thinking that Race told Jack about them, kicks Race out in the rain. It doesn't end so well for Race.





	Like Ink and Cigars

"Be quiet!" Race grinned as he nipped at Spot's neck. This. Whatever it was, it’s dangerous business. Could get them killed, if they'd be found out. Yet neither newsie could stay away.   
"Racer!" Spot pulled Race's face away from his neck only to kiss him on his mouth. Race rubs Spot's hips and Spot's hand come up to curl in Race's hair. Race was all soft hands, cheekiness and always smelled like ink and cigars and something akin to home to Spot. Spot was all quiet loving covered up by harsh tones and rough hands.   
Caught up in each other, neither boy noticed Jack Kelley passing their hideout, doubling back to look at what he just saw, before quickly making his way towards the Manhattan lodging house.

-

"What do you think you's doing ey? Doin' that sorta thing to Racer, in damn public too." Jack shoved Spot, which may not be the brightest of ideas, but he had to get his point across. "Whatcha talkin' bout Kelly. You's talkin in riddles, you is." "I's talking about you getting Racer killed! What if the bulls would've spotted you! You's need to stay the hell away Conlon." Spot freezes, eyes scanning over Jack's face, looking for the lie, the joke. There's no way Jack could know, unless.. Spot shoves Jack away from him.   
"You's not gotta worry about me goin' near Racetrack. Tell him to keep his bum away from my turf and we's gots no issues, Kelly."

-

"So what's yous problem, Spotty? Sending me out like that. I's been selling at Sheepshead for nearly two years without a issue." Race glared at Spot with crossed arms, from the door opening of Spot's personal room. "Beat it kid. Get youself back to 'Hattan before I soak ya." Spot straightened his back, glaring back at Race. "I told Kelly I don't want to see your face in Brooklyn again. Why isn't you listenin' to watcha told?" "Because I get to know what I's done!" Race hissed, stepping forward. Spot just raised his eyebrow.   
"You knows what you's done, Racetrack." Race's features softened slightly. "Spotty, come on. I's no clue and the last thing I want's to be sent outta Brooklyn." "Should'a thought about that 'fore telling Kelly 'bout us, _Anthony_. You could have gotten us both dead." Race flinched and stepped back. "I's never told Jackie nothin' and that's truth."   
Spot grabbed Race's arm harshly and dragged him down the stairs, pushing him outside the lodging house, into the rain. "Don't even think 'bout coming back to Brooklyn. We'll soak you." Spot walked back inside and Race starts his track back to Manhattan after looking at Spot's back one last time.

Making his way back to the Brooklyn Bridge, Race scoffed. What would he have told Jack? About their relationship? Sure Jack was like a brother to him, but he'd never expose them like that.   
"Whatcha do, Racer? Think yous can betray Spo' like it ain't nobody's damn business?" "You's no clue what yer talkin' about." Race told the three Brooklyn newsies in front of him and attempted to walk past. "I's don' even know what I's done." He mumbled.   
The middle one, Tooth's his name Race thought, roughly grabbed his arm and took a swing at Race's head. Race cursed loudly when he stumbled. "It don't matter what you's done Higgins. We's gon' soak ya so bad nobody will be able to save your sorry self." Race balled his fist and swung at one of the other guys, attempting to make a run for it, but losing his balance when the third guy jumped on his back. His head hit the pavement and he groaned.   
"Get 'fme." Trying to push himself up, he fell back down as Tooth kicked him in the face. Race started kicking wildly and hissed when one of the guys grabbed both his legs and kept him still. Another kick to the head and the world turned a suspicious shade of black.

-

"Albert! He's here!" JoJo yelled when he spots the lifeless body of Race, just a couple of feet away from the Brooklyn Bridge. Albert quickly made his way across the rest of the bridge and knelt down next to his friend. "Damn Racer. Let's get 'im back to 'Hattan." Albert wrapped his arms around one side of Race's waist, lifting him off the ground, JoJo taking place on Race's other side. "Race's neve' had any trouble wit Brooklyn. Wonder what's changed." JoJo mumbled as they crossed the bridge. "Jack'll know." Albert answered, readjusting his grip on Race.   
"Buttons! Go warn Specs Racer needs 'im!" Albert barked at the first newsie they saw when they crossed the bridge and as soon as Buttons laid eyes on Racetrack, he turned straight for Specs' selling spot. "Romeo, where's Jackie at?" JoJo asked when they passed the shorter guy. "Back at lodging with Davey." Romeo nodded at the building down the road. "Thanks Romeo." When they were in front of the lodging, JoJo gently let go of Race to open the doors, going straight back to Race's side to help Albert drag the still unconscious boy inside.

"Jack!" Albert and JoJo lied Race down on the first bunk they reach. "Whats'appened?" "Dunno, we went looking for 'im when he didn't show up to get his papes this mornin'. He hasn't been back to lodging las' night, figured he stayed in Brooklyn with the rain and all. We foun'im just near the bridge, unconscious and bloody. Thought he might have clocked out for real this time."   
It wasn't long after that when Specs came through the doors, at Race's side in a flash. The newsie was beginning to fever up, sweat forming at his brow as he gasped for breath every while. JoJo told Specs how they found Racetrack while Albert and Jack walked back outside.

"What's we gonna do, Jack? They's not just gettin' away with this, is they?" "'Course not, Albie. They's gonna pay. I's gonna go down to Brooklyn and talk to Spot. Rally up some of the fellas willin to back 'Hattan up." "They don't like Brooklyn and half of 'em are scared of Conlon, but I know some who'd fight for Racer." Jack didn't plan on waiting around for albert to find boys to help and figured he'd take his chances entering Brooklyn on his own.   
As soon as he crossed the bridge he tensed, trying to make himself look as intimidating as possible. "Whatcha want, Kelly? You's know I don't want you on my turf." "Should'a thought 'bout that b'fore giving Racer a soaking, Spot." Spot's face gave nothing away. "He's back in the Manhattan lodging, still unconscious. Is gonna be a damned miracle if he pulls through after spending the night in the rain on the streets. If he goes out, that's on you. He'll have died on _your turf_ , Conlon." Spot uncrosses his arms. "He left Brooklyn lodging before the sun set, Kelly, and he walked out fine. He got no soaking by Brooklyn hands." "My boys found him on this side of the bridge, Conlon. He may not got soaked by you, doesn't say nothin' bout your boys. Somebody late for curfew?"   
Spot was right in front Jack in a second, pushing him back. "Don't go sayin' shit about Brooklyn if you's wanna make it out." "For s'body who supposedly knows all that happens on 'is turf, you's acting real defensive against what's true." "You's no clue what happened. I sent Race off for tellin you 'bout us and that's that." "Yeah and that's why he was out dere all nite." Jack replied sarcastically. "Also he never told me nothin'. I seen yous out there, in some alley or otha. I don't care what you two's getting up to, but should do it somewhere the bulls ain't gonna find you."

-

Race cursed loudly when he sits up, wet rag falling off his face. "Specs? Whattappened?" Specs sighs in relief and scoots closer. "Albert and JoJo found you 'cross the bridge. Thought you was dead. I thought you was gonna die on us too, Racer, with that fever. You was out for two days before the fever broke. Jack, he-" Specs cut himself off when the door of the lodging opened to a stream of newsies, done with their day of selling. "Race! You's up!" Excited chatter rose from the group as they found themselves spots to sit in the bunking area.   
Race leant to Jack who sat down on his bed. "You's talked to Spot? Y'know it wasn't him. It was that damned Tooth. We have to go to-" "Brooklyn and Manhattan ain't on speakin' terms right now Racer. Spot said it weren't his boys who soaked you, but Tooth is Brooklyn through and through; Means Spot lied to me. He sure knew 'bout it. No Manhattan newsie goes into Brooklyn."

-

"Racetrack don't be -" "Sheepshead's my track and I's not scared of no Spot Conlon or Tooth or nobody. I's gonna go out and sell papes where I's always sold papes." Race spoke quickly and walks away from Albert and Tommy boy. He wasn't going to let them scare him away from his favourite selling spot.

He got away with it for about an hour before Spot showed up at the races. "What can I do for you Spot? I's tryna sell my papes." Race tried to sound lighthearted, but everybody could see how tense he was and how his papers were moving back and forth from how badly his hands were shaking. "Didn't know if you was still alive. Jack never told." "Didn't think you'd care, Spotty." Race faces the races. If he sold his papers on time, maybe he could place a bet at the end of the day.   
Spot roughly grabbed his arm, dragging Race away from the Races. "Y'know, last time you dragged me places, I didn't like so much what came afta." Race tried to pull his arm back but Spot wasn't budging. He pushed Race in an alley, following closely. "Who soaked ya?" Race laughed nervously. "Wha'?" "Who, Racetrack?" "Tooth and two others. Dunno their names." Spot cursed and Race flinched back against one of the walls when Spot put his hands on Racer. It wasn't long after that Race realised Spot was only looking for injuries on his body. "Damn it. 'M sorry, Racer." He mumbled when he stepped back, away from Race. "Wait what? Did the king of Brooklyn just apologize?" Race grinned softly. "I thought you told Jack on us. Only you's never done that. If you ever tell anybody, don't think I won't soak ya. About the apologizing too." Racer laughed and Spot's mouth curled up slightly. "You's nottin to worry 'bout Spotty. I like ya too much to risk it." Race put his thumb on the corner of Spot's mouth. He frowned. "I'd gettit if you's wantin' me to stay away though." He didn't like the thought of him staying away from Spot, but he would if Spot would ask him to. Spot shook his head and stepped forward again, pressed against Race. "We's need to be careful, Racer. But, I's in if you is." Race simply leaned down to press a quick kiss against Spot's lips.


End file.
